Trolololol
by Beyond The Mat
Summary: Orton, DiBiase and Rhodes are bored in a hotel room. What was to have been a little internet trolling turned into something completely different. Rated M for a few non-PG references.


Disclaimer: This story might make you chuckle. If, however, you spew liquid onto your monitor, that's on you. This story might also cause insomnia, blurry vision and loose stools. Not really.

One shot.

* * *

Shout-out to SanSlim who inspired this.

* * *

"I'm fuckin' bored," Randy said to Cody. Boredom had made Randy do stupid shit before, something Cody knew all too well. It was one of those rare moments when there was absolutely -nothing- to do. (Well, besides sleep, which would be the practical thing to do, but these men do not exactly live the most practical lifestyle. And, because insomnia.)

The hotel bar was closed for the night. This particular shit heap of a hotel didn't even allow 24-hour access to the gym (of which Cody was silently grateful, or Orton would have them in there doing lunges and squats), and while Randy's still best friends with Cody and Ted, Ted who's out on the balcony on his cellphone, there's only three things that they could possibly do now, and only one would have no consequences.

* * *

1: Call the front desk clerk and give the credit card number for some of the hardcore porn. No. We don't need any 'Legaycy' jokes and we're not about to have a circle-jerk. If they'd wanted to hook up, there'd been enough opportunity down at the bar an hour ago, and they'd all ended up back in this suite by themselves for a reason. One, because Randy's got a wife at home. Two, because Ted's got a wife at home. Three, because Cody's rooming with them in this suite and don't think for a second that there wouldn't be performance anxiety with his two best friends listening in, egging him on and being assholes. Deflating erections prematurely is not dashing, and of course there'd be no respect shown. So no pr0n.

* * *

2. Call Room Service and break diet. While there was a look around Cody's eyes that screams "YES, THIS," Randy's narrowed stare is shutting that down. Ted, of course, isn't looking to turn his abs into flabs, so eating at this ungodly hour wasn't on the agenda. Maybe they could've done it a few years ago, Randy's nasty glare be damned, but they were all getting older now and seriously, eating at 3:30 am, unless they were in Europe and their Circadian clocks were that fucked up, it wasn't worth it. It just wasn't worth it.

* * *

3. "No, Randy. Not again," Cody sighed.

Randy grinned.

Ted came in from the balcony, read the expressions, and chuckled. He opened up his laptop, knowing that yes, this. "Look, Cody," Ted said, the Mississippi twang hitting in, "No calories, no fat, and no risk of STD. It's harmless enough, we laugh, then we can actually get some sleep."

Cody shook his head. "We almost got caught last time. You know the company monitors this shit. You know there's only so many times we can say we got 'hacked'."

Randy grinned some more. "That's why we're gonna do it a little differently this time. Just make a new Twitter handle."

Cody rolled his eyes, "What's the point of that? Nobody would even see it then, and part of it is about the tweets being seen."

* * *

Ted assessed them silently, then threw his two cents in. "If we're gonna troll, it can't be off my account. It's like I'm in the WWE Witness Protection Program with as little TV time as I get. Cody can't do it off his account or he'll end up getting de-pushed. If it's not off yours, Randy, then yeah. New handle. Not saying that we couldn't use our accounts to follow the sock puppet..."

Cody shook his head. Absolutely not. "If the suits see us following the account, then they're gonna know it's us at it again. And at that point, what's the sense?"

Randy's hand rested under his chin, and he thought a moment. "Hack your brother's account. It's verified and he's got a decent share of followers...? Nah, fuck that, people are used to him actin' like an asshole on Twitter, and they don't take Goldie serious anyway."

Cody smirked. He wouldn't -have- to hack Dustin; he knew the password. He knew Dream's password too. And both those accounts were just...no. Cody stayed off social media for a long time because of Dustin and Dream and the way they behaved on the internet. They were the window-lickers of the internet. So if they'd gotten into those accounts and trolled from them, it wouldn't be fun at all. Or, Dustin would've ended up getting mention on the dirt sheets, and Cody wasn't feeling too generous toward his older brother at the moment. They'd had a stupid argument recently and Cody was feeling petty enough that he wouldn't do his brother the 'favor' of getting him free publicity.

Ted rolled his eyes. "Don't ask me to use my father's. He does church stuff on it, and he ain't too old to kick my ass."

"Wouldn't have -asked- you about Senior's, loser. I might not be a God-fearin' man but I do have a healthy fear of your Dad," Randy chuckled." He could still kick -my- ass, too," and the chuckle died, to be replaced by a petulant grumble. They were like teenage pranksters right now, these three. Wanting to troll wrestlers on Twitter, when they should just go to bed.

* * *

Cody shook his head and decided to go step out on the balcony for a cigarette, while Randy and Ted brainstormed.

(That should scare you, the idea of Randy brainstorming. It scared Ted. Randy might be able to carry anybody in a match, but fact: They carry Randy when it comes to brainstorming. There's more to technique than physique and while they love Randy like a brother, they accept that he's not the smartest, well-rounded guy. Cody and Ted's formal educations blow Randy out of the water. That, plus even common sense sometimes seems to elude Randy. If not for these two, Randy would probably be in TNA these days. No, really. Between Wellness Strikes and behavior issues, the WWE's lawyers have seen the pattern emerge. Randy Orton on his own offscreen = problems. Randy with these two in particular = easier to manage. These facts, plus the fact that the money drawn long-term by these three has been enough to sustain in the lower moments of their careers had a lot to say with the last round of budget cuts; Ted's name had gone up for consideration for Future Endeavors and had been one of the first ones to be crossed off that list, and much of that had to do with his influence with and over Orton. The rationale behind that reason was only second to the fact that Ted DiBiase Sr.'s Legends Contract was being renegotiated and the company would likely have lost both Senior and Junior as well as the potential for bad publicity should they have done so. Senior rarely gives shoot interviews and had been gracious thus far, but if his namesake had been fired while trying to recover from surgery, -especially- after the entire DiBiase clan had been gracious about Brett's being let go, well, a razor tongue that could truly cut the company to the core might have been displayed. If the Million Dollar Man has one thing these days, it's credibility, and that's not easy to come by in this business, much less from his reigning era.)

He looked over his shoulder through the set of French doors to see if maybe those two had fallen asleep rather than continue to discuss this prank. The more Cody thought about it, the less he wanted to do it. Seriously, trolling online had its merits, but he realized he was getting tired and hoped those two would follow suit.

No such luck.

* * *

Ted stifled a yawn. "Why not just go to bed," he said. Before they knew it, the sun would be up, and the responsible side of him was starting to show. "Not like we can't think this through after some rest."

Randy practically sulked. Impuslve behavior was how he lived, and here he was, being grounded by a voice of reason and he could feel the side-eye coming in from the balcony door.

"You guys suck," he said. Now, if that's not the lamest comeback ever...showing fatigue through his words, and he realized that the moment had passed.

Cody came back in, a little pale.

"What's up?" Ted and Randy asked in unison.

"I flicked my cigarette off the balcony...and didn't see Alicia walking down outside with Wade. It landed on her weave."

Randy dashed to the balcony and Cody bodyblocked. "Shh! They're looking up here!" And yes, the odor of burnt synthetic hair wafted upwards. Randy was ready to piss himself. Only then did they realize Wade was yelling upward at the rooms in his booming voice and accent, "WHO DID THIS?"

It was Ted's turn to start laughing, and he helped yank Randy back into the room. Instead of Twitter trolling, Cody had real-life trolled inadvertently. And Ted made it worse...he stuck his head out the door, disguised his voice and yelled, "Sandow! Stop throwing cigarettes off the balcony!" (Yes, he'd chosen Sandow as the target; don't think that whole storyline of "Rhodes Scholars/Best Friends" didn't grate a little on his nerves. Cody was -his- best friend and Ted could be a little territorial.)

The best part? Wade started yelling for Sandow. He'd bought what was just made up on the fly and sold.

* * *

Alicia wasn't hurt except for her pride, as well as that awful smell. Well, maybe her lungs would show damage in the future from breathing that shit. Smoke inhalation, toxic fumes, whatever, but she wasn't requiring medical attention. Just cosmetic. Of course, the wrestlers in the hotel were now all coming to their balconies, due to the yelling and commotion...

Sandow was woken up by a production assistant. He didn't appreciate it; he needed his beauty rest and was reaching for his bathrobe haughtily. "How dare you enter my room," he'd murmured, still in sleep's grip and with no idea that he was about to be the next victim of the Barrett Barrage. It took several midcarders and a couple of road agents to separate them. Wade had threatened to strangle the man with his own bathrobe belt.

"That's the only belt you'll be carrying anytime soon, I can assure you -that-, mate!" Wade growled, being dragged away as Alicia stood by the elevator bank, with her singed weave, looking as if she'd wish the floor would just open up and swallow her. The Bellas emerged in their doorway, pointing and laughing.

* * *

Cody felt bad, but not bad enough to actually, like, go out there and say anything, lol.

Ted crashed hard, glad that the crisis was averted...well, for now, anyway. He hadn't realized that he'd left his laptop on and even though it's password protected, he'd logged in.

Randy said goodnight, but had taken Ted's laptop with him after Ted crashed. Only after he'd left some rude stuff in Ted's browser history (horse porn), knowing damned well that Ted's wife sometimes checks the browser history, which Ted sometimes forgets to clear, did he fall asleep.

And NO, he didn't fall asleep with a hard-on, nor did he jack to horse porn. It was only the grin of the thought of Ted's wife's face and the possible hasty explanation Ted would have to give should she discover it, that allowed Randy to find sleep.

Yet, -he- fucked up. He never shut Ted's computer down. It was Cody who ended up going to sleep last. 

He -did- preserve Randy's "work", though, and shut down Ted's laptop properly, and set it back in its bag. The horse porn did nothing for him, either, but he did have to chuckle, as he'd eyed the browser history and did nothing to clear it, either.

* * *

Trolling level: Moderate. This wasn't their best effort, but it was good enough.


End file.
